Coatman says...

"Dating always has been similar to applying for a job: asking somebody out is the application, the first few dates are the interviews, and the early stages thereafter the internship. And, just like being in a job, if one does really, really well, eventually, one can become a partner." -Coatman, author of Celibacy and the Suburbs.

Looking for what exactly?

Can we really know what our ideal partner looks like before we meet them?

I bet most people are looking for someone who is intelligent, kind, witty, generous and attractive - whatever that means.

Beauty and intelligence are in the eyes of the beholder.

But what other characteristics beyond that are we looking for? Can we really know what we are looking for before we meet him or her?

Haven't you met someone who you really didn't think was that interesting or attractive, but then over time that person won you over?

Life is full of surprises.

We could all be like Charlotte York on Sex and the City. She ended up marrying the character Harry Goldenblatt.

Harry was the total opposite of what Charlotte desired. He was bald and chewed with his mouth open.

Charlotte started dating him because she knew she could let her guard down around Harry, since she would never fall for anybody like him.

Her initial relationship with him was about sex. And even then she was embarrassed about being with him.

Overtime Charlotte fell for him, although she kept denying her feelings for Harry, both to herself and her friends.

Charlotte kept using his hairy back and lack of social skills to justify not wanting to be with him, but deep down, her feelings grew every single time they got together.

Eventually she confessed her feelings for Harry after he told her he couldn't marry anyone who wasn't Jewish. Charlotte converted and the two were married.

The moral of the story is never say never.

Just because you think you know what you want doesn't mean you do.

Life is full of surprises.

Making Up

"No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens." - Abraham Lincoln

The same can be said for humans too.

Ruined Songs

Thanks to the TV show Arrested Development, I can't listen to the song "Final Countdown" without laughing.

Thanks to the movie Coneheads, I can't listen to the song "Tainted Love."

Such song associations make it very tough to get through fitness class when those are the songs playing. I'm sure my instructor thought I was crazy. That's right I'm that one in the corner who silently laughs to themselves for what appears to be no reason at all. I blame it on the music.

It's all in a day's work.

How far does your job carry you in the world of dating?

Do doctors have easier times finding dates than funeral directors?

Some people would find a funeral director just plain creepy. It wouldn't matter how nice a person the funeral director was.

There are a few male television reporters who think telling women what they do is a good pick-up line. "That's right baby. I'm on TV."

And many a woman likes a man in uniform, unless she has a criminal record, a problem with authority or political views opposing military operations.

Are we education snobs? Do high school drop outs have a tougher time in the dating world? Do people with more than one university degree have an easier time picking up?

How much of what we do for a living plays into who we date?

Personal Mount Everest

You don't really notice how many flights of stairs there are to a building until you have to carry something really heavy up them. Suddenly three flights of stairs becomes a lot. The stairs, then, can become an almost impossible climb.

Avoiding Johnny Appleseeds

There are countless men out there who would say flirting with women is like planting seeds.

Like a good farmer, a man doesn't just plant one seed fully expecting that one to survive all the bad weather and poor conditions of the land. Instead the man plants hundreds of seeds in hopes that a few will survive and flourish.

At the end of the growing season, the man will have several plants he can eat. And when those plants are all gone, he can plant some more seeds.

Well, women are not seeds.

I don't like being one of several woman a man is planting his interest in.

If a man is truly worthy of my respect, I should really be the only person he is interested in.

Because in the words of Saturday Night Live's Stuart Smalley: "I'm good enough, smart enough, and - doggone it - people like me!"

And if a guy can't see that, and wants to write me off as one of many generic seeds he is trying to plant, then good riddance.

I demand to stand on a pedestal because I am worth it.

But with such a demand like that I'm going to be single for a long, long while.

End Notes.

I've been thinking a lot about how people sign their e-mails and letters. "Sincerely," "best," "ciao," "cheers," "regards," "from," "love" are words that precede our names in correspondence.

"Ciao" and "cheers" sound friendly and informal.

"Regards" and "best" are formal and polite, at least to me. Although, most formal letters from lawyers write "sincerely," which to me implies an emotionally heartfelt letter that they sincerely meant, which is probably not the spirit in which they wrote their dry formal letter.

"Love" is a loaded ending, because the person might then think you're in love with them if you use that one.

And "from" just seems cold.

Can you tell a lot about a person by how they sign a piece of correspondence?

What about "peace," "keep on rocking" and endings like that? Are these people trying too hard to be cool?

No time like the present...

"Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made of." - Benjamin Franklin

I'm one of those people who is always ridiculously busy. There is rarely ever down time for me, as long as I have deadlines that keep pummeling towards me, I'm productive. I can get a lot done in a short period of time.

When I do have down time (or take down time) I feel like that time is squandered, because I am not getting anything done.

Am I turning into a workaholic?

I like living to deadlines though. I don't know that I would enjoy just sitting around.

Fashion Trends

I went to see David Usher recently. He was wearing a double-zip sweater, done up to reveal his navel.

Are midriff-revealing shirts for men coming back?

David's turning 41 this year. David, you're supposed to be a role model for men your age. Don't encourage men in their 40s to wear such shirts. Most of them can't pull the look off.

A few weeks later, I was in the grocery store, I saw a guy fashionably dressed, wearing butt-crack-revealing jeans, which were popular with the girls a year or two back.

Is androgyny going to be big again?

Are the 80s coming back? Really?

Forgetting...

Why is it, when someone does something stupid or wrong, we don't let them forget?

We think it's funny not to let them forget too.

For instance, ever since my karate instructor knocked out that kid's tooth, when sparring him, I'm like: "Careful, don't knock out my tooth."

Everyone else laughs, but my instructor says: "That's not funny."

In the air...

Spring is here, although you can't tell by all the snow being dumped on the Canadian prairies right now.

Last week, before the snow, every single member of my poetry group, coincidentally, brought a poem about some sort of dead animal. Death isn't often associated with spring. Usually spring is connected with new life, birth and rebirth. But leave it to writers to try to twist and challenge society's standard associations.

Poet gillian harding-russell writes: "Spring is an uncovering of old wounds."

If this is true, it's not that hard to connect spring with death. Although, death goes with any season.

Tasty Treats

I was feeding my cat some tartar-control snacks when I noticed that the side of the bag read: "Tasty Treats."

How was it decided that these treats were tasty?

Did someone taste the treats? Was the food given to a sample population of cats for testing? How did the cats provide feedback? They can't talk.

Was it assumed that because cats eat it that the food is good? I eat a lot of things put in front of me that I don't like, asparagus, for instance. I don't like it, but I eat it because I assume it's food. And because it's green, it must be good for me. Right? Maybe cats make the same assumption and eat something that tastes bad.

The Trap

Women used to, and still do, trap men into marriage with pregnancy. Since single parenthood and abortion have become more acceptable, this may be harder to do.

If you want to trap a man, find one who is struggling with his rent and literally move in. Once you start living with a boyfriend your relationship takes on a whole new "serious" tone. It will be harder for the guy to break up with you. Even if he wants to, he will be reluctant, because he knows he'll feel bad for throwing you out on the street. Besides, he needs your half of the rent to make ends meet.

I know more than one person stuck in an unhappy common law relationship because they got stuck in the rent trap. Now they're having trouble getting out. I also know people who are in unhappy marriages because of the pregnancy trap. Of course, some of those traps come with happy endings too.

If you think of a guy as something to be trapped or hunted, I think your relationship is off to an unhealthy start. Why are the words trapped and hunting used in dating speak? I think the fairy tale ideal of getting married and living happily ever after has reduced the idea of a significant other as a random animal to be caught and domesticated.

Flattery

I made an observation while out window shopping the other day: You know an outfit isn't going to be flattering on you if it makes a mannequin wearing it look fat.

What I'm saying is very few people, or mannequins, can wear an empress waist--which was a very popular style in Mark Twain's day--without looking fat and/or pregnant.

Understanding

I went to a panel discussion on racism today, which opened with this question, posed by a First Nations woman.

"How come First Nations people are called savages? We smoke a pipe and have the smoke carry our prayers to the creator. In Christianity, people eat a piece of bread representing the body of Christ, which sounds like cannibalism to me. Why aren't Christians called savages?"

I thought that was interesting, because anyone being called a savage would say their culture isn't being fully understood.

A lot of problems are caused by misunderstandings or the failure to at least try to understand. And, even if people do understand, they might not care about the other people's feelings or beliefs.

If people tried to truly understand where each other is coming from there might be less name calling and fighting.

When a speeding driver cuts me off, I try not to get angry, because what if that person is in a rush to get to the hospital or something. Of course, maybe if I did understand that they were actually just being a jerk then I might get angry and call them a nasty name.

Okay, understanding won't work either. Who am I kidding? There will always be name calling and worse, with or without understanding. That's just how the human race likes to do business on this complicated web we weave.

Rushed.

I hate those days when I leave the house in such a rush to get somewhere that I know I must have forgotten something. There is just no way I can leave the house fast without forgetting something.

Today, I even looked down to see if I remembered my pants, which I did. Thank God. Is it possible that I could actually forget my pants someday? I really hope not.

The Injury Report.

Today, at karate, this eight-year-old kid had a molar knocked loose by the instructor. And it was an adult tooth too. There was blood running out the side of the kid's mouth. It was pretty nasty.

All the instructor did was turn around and the kid, who was standing right behind him, took an elbow to the face. It was an accident. The kid will definitely need a trip to the dentist.

Karate can make you feel like an abused spouse or child. While getting a tooth knocked out, or even a bloody nose, is rare, bruises are common. When I first started and had sensitive forearms, I had to wear long sleeves to hide the ridiculous amount of bruises I was getting, just from blocking punches.

I bruise less now, but every now and again I still get some ugly bruises. Three weeks ago, at a provincial team training session, I had a bruise complete with blood blisters that ran from my elbow to my wrist. I had another large bruise on my stomach. I couldn't even tell you where the bruises came from. Obviously, I took some hits. I also had a large scratch under my arm, as well as some pinch marks, from some grappling we were doing.

I'm glad I'm not a wrestler, because I hear breaking the cartilage in your ears is a common injury in that sport. And the cartilage never heals right. You get what they call cauliflower ears.

Workshops

The dilemma I often face when going to a writing workshop is: "What work should I submit?"

Should I submit something good that might impress other writers? Or should I submit a horrible piece of writing that has been grating me and is in desperate need of workshopping?

I go with the latter. As a result, I'm sure there are a lot of writers I respect out there going: "Really? That girl's a published poet? Really? But did you just read what she submitted at that workshop? What a piece of crap!"

There can be no ego when it comes to battling your own worst nightmares . . . I mean poems.

The Unsung Hero

There are the obvious heroes in society--the police, fire fighters, the neighbour that pulls you out of your house in a fire...

I would add the tow truck driver to that list. Who else is going to come at 3 a.m. to rescue you after you've done something stupid, like hang your car up on a meridian?

Tow truck drivers risk their lives helping you in your stupid moments. I recently met one tow truck driver who got hit by a speeding car while trying to help another person out of a ditch. The tow truck driver flew through the air and landed on top of his tow truck, breaking his back. His nine year career as a hero ended. After three back surgeries, and two years of recovery, he now cleans used cars at a sales lot.

A few weeks ago, a submerged pot hole took my car out. Even though I know enough to drive through puddles slowly, my rim was bent and my tire was damaged. The tow truck driver who came to my rescue was able to assess the damage, which later saved me from being ripped off from the first mechanic where I took my car. That mechanic said my car was far more damaged than it actually was, in hopes of earning a few extra bucks from my stupidity. I got a second and third opinion and realized the tow truck driver was right and the first mechanic was a con.

Tow truck drivers, they're heroes. Because I'm not going to be able to pull you out of a ditch at 3 a.m., even if you offer me $80.